Mafia III Pulp Novel Excerpt: Donovan and Lincoln’s War Stories
Before returning to New Bordeaux – and unleashing his vengeance against the Italian Mob – Lincoln Clay had a hard tour in Vietnam. Mafia III: Plain of Jars (Insight Publishing), a novelized prequel to the events in Mafia III, takes you in-country with Lincoln. See how he operated in the field… and how his CIA handler, John Donovan, became such a close and trusted ally.
Here’s a quick excerpt from the book – after Lincoln’s first op with Donovan. Slight spoiler warnings for what’s ahead.
Lincoln’s wounds had been minimal, so he had gone with the search party.
Heading back to the camp from the last drop, Lincoln felt a nudge on his shoulder.
He turned to see the CIA agent there, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression.
“Take a walk with me?” the man said.
“Sure.” Lincoln stepped off the path and let Spearman and Blair go on without
him. When the rest of the line had passed—some tossing questioning glances at
them—Lincoln and the agent brought up the rear, far enough back that their conversation
wouldn’t be overheard.
“Did that get your panties in a twist?” the agent asked. “What I did back there?”
“Hell yeah,” Lincoln said. “When you explained, it kinda made sense. But at the
moment, it sure took me by surprise.”
“I figured it would,” the man said. “That was the point. One of them, anyway. I
had to do what I did, but if I’d told you guys beforehand what I planned, someone
might have objected.”
Lincoln couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he simply nodded.
“Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good,” the agent continued.
“This was one of those cases. Rivers should have [REDACTED] well stayed with the unit he
was assigned to and covered the war he came to Vietnam to report on. As soon as he
crossed into Laos, he signed his own death warrant.”
“No real loss, the way I see it,” Lincoln said.
The agent chuckled. “Exactly. The guy was a scumbag, through and through.
He would have handed Laos to the communists. I’m not naïve enough to think our
country never makes mistakes—hell, we made a huge one with your people, and we’re
still trying to fix it. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let some rich, pampered TV star playing
soldier put real fighting men at risk and endanger American interests in the bargain.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
The agent stopped, so Lincoln did, too. “My name’s John Donovan,” the man said.
“You’ve probably already figured out who I work for.”
“That’s pretty clear,” Lincoln admitted.
Donovan took a cigarette pack from his breast pocket, tapped out a smoke, and
offered one to Lincoln. Lincoln took it, and by the time he had it in his mouth,
Donovan had flicked open a lighter. He lit Lincoln’s cigarette, then his own, inhaled,
and blew out a long ribbon of smoke.
“I have to say, I’m impressed with the way you handled yourself on this op,
Corporal Clay. You know, I asked to have you included on the task force. And goddamn,
you’re everything they said, and then some.”